Life is a Field of Sunflowers
by DaughterofDemeter123
Summary: A boy living with his mother on a farm receives a letter that changes his life. One-shot


**I really need to actually post my stories once in a while. Its like, I keep knocking around all of these great ideas, and writing them, and never being satisfied enough to share them. I wrote this story in partilcular at least two years ago. Enjoy!**

* * *

Belarus stalked her way up the street of another suburban neighborhood in England's house, ignoring her bawling older sister who was trailing behind her. She was on a mission. After today's meeting, Big Brother had immediately fled the premises and naturally, she had given chase. She probably would've found him by now if her sister hadn't been so upset about something South Korea did.

She made a mental note to discipline him later.

To make things even worse, Belarus had just lost her brother's trail, and now the both of them were hopelessly lost. It was growing dark as well, and they had no means of transportation back to the hotel. Knowing Big Brother, he was most likely already there, harassing the Baltic trio as per usual. She was missing out on everything!

The entire situation was completely infuriating.

Ukraine, whose tears were finally subsiding to hiccups, wasn't fairing much better. First, South Korea had violated her personal bubble, making her unhappy. Then, Vanya was chased out of the room by her sister, making him unhappy. And finally, her sister lost track of their brother. That made her very, very unhappy.

Oh, today was going so badly! She wished she could be back at the hotel, gossiping with Poland and Hungary in the comfort of their shared suite.

Still, she always tried to look at the positive side of things. It was a very clear night, for example, and not too chilly. All of the street lamps had gone out, so there were many more stars than you could usually see at England's house. Yes, and the only things marring the pleasant night air was her sister's enraged mutterings and the cries of a baby- wait. The cries of a baby?

_Boing Boing Boing!_

The nation whirled around and stared at the source of the distressed child's wailing. There, on a doorstep, sat a whicker basket, not unlike the one she used to carry her laundry.

_Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing!_

Belarus turned, annoyed. Where exactly was her sister off to? She was headed straight for one of the many identical houses on this street.

She watched her sister kneel down and gently pick something up before moving back in her direction. The thing in her arms was wailing. Loudly. There was no mistaking the sound. As her older sister neared, the little child grew calmer.

"Belarus. Just look at this! Someone left this little baby out on a doorstep!" Ukraine's eyes welled up with tears. "He must be an orphan. Oh, sister, I simply must take care of him!"

"A baby?" Belarus was highly agitated, slipping into her own language. "Сястра! Ты з розуму сышоў?"

"No, I am not going mad. He needs a home!" She insisted, holding the baby tighter to her chest.

Belarus looked at the baby. He looked up at her through teary green eyes. Her rarely tapped maternal instincts soared inside of her, and her face softened. Just this once wouldn't hurt, would it? It's not like it'd last very long, humans lived such short lives.

"...Very well. Come along, my sister. Russia is waiting for me."

And so, the two women and the baby departed. None of them knew how much this event would change the future.

* * *

There had been a note nestled in the whicker basket, addressed to one Petunia Dursley. Had she noticed the note, Ukraine would have soon been informed that the squirming baby had a name. Harry Potter, freshly orphaned just hours before she'd found him.

But Ukraine did not notice the note. Nor did she pick up the whicker basket holding it.

And so, the next morning as Petunia herself stepped onto the doorstep to put out the milk bottles, she was very confused to find an empty basket lined with a blue blanket awaiting her. It certainly didn't belong to her, and the neighbors wouldn't just leave their belongings out on someone else's property. She brought it inside for some snooping- _inspecting_.

Petunia was a champion snooper, as it was. Not long after bringing it in, she procured the note. She read it, eyes growing wide with shock. Lily was dead. Her younger sister had been killed and her nephew had been stolen away in the night.

Despite the jelously she held for her sister and her magic, Petunia was stricken with grief. Her husband later found her frozen there on the floor, a little blue blanket grasped tightly in her hands.

* * *

_Ten years later_

"Mamo! Mamo, wake up!"

Ukraine awoke to her darling son Nikolai shouting in her ear and shaking her arm. He had always been such an impatient child, but he had a good heart. He was still only a child, after all.

"What is it, Kolya?" She rubbed her eyes, smiling at the 10-year old boy.

Nikolai did not respond to the pet name as he usually did (which was with a scowl) and instead grabbed her hand and yanked on her arm urgently.

"What do you want, Kolya?"  
"Mamo, there's and owl tapping at the window."  
"Oh? An owl in the daytime? Are you sure, dear?"

The boy nodded his head and persisted in his quest to pull his mother's arm off. She stood up and allowed him to drag her into the kitchen where to her surprise, an owl was indeed tapping at their window. And it wasn't the kind of owl she usually saw at her house, either.

"Should we let it in?"

The nation looked down at her son and nodded. "I think it's holding something. We should let it in."

Nikolai eagerly opened up the window, allowing the frazzled owl to drop the letter he was holding on the kitchen table. Ukraine picked it up.

"It's addressed to a Mr. H. Potter, but it clearly says our home address." She muttered, gaining a stare from her son. "Only magic folk send mail by bird nowadays. Whatever could they want?"

"Open it, Mamo." Demanded her son, tapping his foot with impatience.

She complied, pulling out a thick material. Parchment? Definitely wizards. "Dear Mr. Potter... it's in English. How strange. They're asking this Mr. Potter to come to a magic school in Scotland. I didn't know Mr. Scotland had a magical community too!"

_Boing Boing Boing!_

Ukraine bustled over to the phone. She began to dial. "Nikolai, go tend to the chickens."

The boy trotted off, not without sending a confused look her way. He didn't know anything about magic, after all.

"Hello, Mr. England? This is Ukraine. Sorry to bother you. I'm calling about a letter I've gotten from a school belonging to your brother…"

* * *

Nikolai was having a very busy day. He and his mother had taken a plane all the way to Mr. England's house so he could board the train that would take him to his new school.

He had learned things about himself and his birth family he never would have dreamed of, and it was like living in a different world.

Of course, it was difficult for him to escape his mother's grasp after she started crying rivers of tears and suffocating him in a hug. That was just the way she was, but he was sure he'd miss the train if she kept it up. Honestly. She was so weird! So very_ weird_.

Even so, she was his mother. Whom he wouldn't see again until the holidays. The very thought brought tears to his eyes, and soon both mother and son were sobbing loudly and clinging to each other. People gaped at the noisy duo unabashedly, clucking and muttering about foreigners.

That went on for a few more minutes before the train whistled and he had to rush on board.

"Fairwell Kolya! Remember to write!"

He ignored the babyish nickname and instead chose to head off.

"I will, Mamo! Dopobachinya!"

The small family waved to each other with their hankies, both completely oblivious to the looks they were getting.

* * *

It did not take long for the boy to find an open compartment. Well, at least, a compartment he could sit in. The one he found already held two occupants- a round faced boy with a troubled expression and a girl with frizzy hair.

"Dobri den- oh, I mean hello. May I sit here?" He asked, nervously straightening his glasses.

"Certainly," Said the girl, who seemed to have a bossy sort of voice. "Are you a first year too, then?"

"Yes." Nikolai sat down. "My name is Nikolai Chernenko. What are yours?"

"N-neville Longbottom."  
"I'm Hermione Granger."

The girl, Hermione, immediately began to recount how she and her family discovered she was a witch. And how she had already finished reading all of their textbooks. And how she wanted to be in Gryffindor house, did you know it had been Dumbledore's house when he was in school?

Nikolai tried to pay attention to her. He really, really did, but it was like when Mr. America came over to visit and started talking about superheroes. He was beginning to have trouble keeping himself from blocking her out entirely.

The other boy, Neville, seemed to have given up entirely on listening to her story. He had pulled out the herbology text and was leafing through it, hmming every now and then.

"Nikolai, tell me, where are you from? I haven't heard an accent like yours before." Hermione's attention was once again on him.

"I'm from Ukraine." He answered as politely as he could manage, intimidated as he was. "We live on a farm."

Neville seemed to perk up when he heard this.

"A farm? What kind of plants do you grow there?" His eyes sparkled with interest.

"Corn, potatoes, wheat, things like that." He smiled, relieved to talk about something he knew well. "Mother also planted a sunflower field for when Uncle Ivan visits, and we keep a few animals as well."

The two boys began to chat happily about plants, the ice broken. Hermione pitched in once in a while too, mentioning the magical properties of certain herbs and such. Her domineering ways had not subsided much, but she had calmed down. As the topic moved onto their families, the girl was quick to announce that both her parents were dentists.

Neville said he lived with his Gran and nothing more. Neither of them questioned him further, sensing that it went deeper than that.

Nikolai told them about his (incredibly weird) mother and his (equally weird) Aunt Natalya and his big cheerful Uncle Ivan.

"He takes a steel pipe with him everywhere he goes, just in case." He explained. "And it always makes Mr. Raivis shiver a lot when he takes it out- Mr. Raivis is Uncle's part time henchman- because I think it scares him."

The confused looks on his companion's faces went completely unnoticed.

"Aunt Natalya is very pretty," He continued. "Our neighbor from Lithuania is always trying to get her to go on dates with him. She does go sometimes, but she usually ends up breaking all his fingers when he tries to hold her hand."

"Breaking his fingers!" Hermione looked aghast. "Why would she do something like that?"

Nikolai thought for a minute and shrugged. "I suppose she thinks he is annoying. Also, he could be seen as competition, I guess. He doesn't mind it, really, since he has such a big crush on her. Did I mention Auntie wants to marry Uncle Ivan? She says I can be the ring bearer for their wedding, but I don't actually have a choice if that's what she's decided."

Hermione gasped and was probably about to explain exactly _why_ siblings weren't allowed to marry, but a woman bustled by with a cart full of candy.

"Anything from the Trolley, dears?"

Nikolai bought himself a box of Bernie Botts Every Flavor Beans. This action sent the lone female of the group into a bit of a tirade on how candy ruined your teeth, but if fell on deaf ears. He didn't eat candy very often, and he was very curious about how British candy tasted. He placed one in his mouth and immediately spat it back out.

"That tasted like dirty snow!"

Neville chuckled a bit. "They're Every Flavor Beans, aren't they? I've gotten rotten egg a few times."

It developed into a sort of game. Nikolai and Neville would pass the package back and forth, taking a bean each turn and loudly reacting to it while Hermione pointedly refused to participate. The boys tried to offer her one they both agreed smelled like toothpaste, but it turned out to be more of a window-cleaner flavor.

With a new friend to talk to, things were looking a little less intimidating. The ache of homesickness lessened, and Nikolai could tell that the future was bright.

* * *

**The end! I'm glad this thing isn't just sitting around ****collecting dust. Reviews are appreciated, and if you've got a question I'll get back to you. Thanks!**


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